Chinese Censorship

My blog isn’t going to be updated until I find a way to outsmart the Chinese government and circumvent their formidable firewall. Damn fascists.

So long U.S., Ni hao Shanghai

As excited as we are, our move isn’t without some reservations. Actually we were quite close to heading to South Korea and then Japan instead (But that’s a long story.). Anyhoo, Shanghai it is.

Just Wednesday afternoon I had a lovely jog clad in shorts in the super mild 50 degree weather. I cherished every deep inhalation. Along with the steamy weather, my number one most detested aspect of Vietnam was the poor air quality. I’d find myself longing for a deep breath of crisp, mountain air. Shanghai isn’t going to be any better. It will probably be worse.

I recently picked up “Riding the Iron Rooster” by Paul Theroux, which — though written in 1988 — still has some timely insights on the Chinese and Shanghai. He has no shortage of criticism. “In Chinese terms prosperity always spelled pollution,” says Theroux. From what I hear about China’s lack of environmental stewardship, that’s still very true today.

“The trouble with China is that it was overrun with people and — except for the occasional earthquake or sandstorm — I rarely saw examples of man’s insignificance beside the greater forces of nature. The Chinese had moved mountains, diverted rivers, wiped out the animals, eliminated the wilderness; they had subdued nature and had it screaming for mercy.”

Apparently, the city set a new personal low in pollution last year. But hey, at least it’s Beijing ‘crazy bad’!? Yuck. It looks like Wednesday was my last outdoor jog for awhile.

We’re also seriously concerned about the food quality. I’d be swimming in a world of ignorant, greasy, fried in duck fat with MSG sprinkled on top bliss if it wasn’t for my granola girlfriend (I guess I should thank her for this but that fried world of MSG bliss smells and tastes so good.). Don’t forget the 2008 milk scandal. Last year, there was tainted meat. Make sure you’re not eating dinner if you look at this full list of food safety incidents in China. Soy sauce made from human hair!? How is that even possible???

So how does China feed its 1.3 billion people? By adding a whole lot of chemicals apparently.

So we’re a bit spooked about the food (Did you see the one about the tofu made from sewage? Appetizing.). As a general rule, I’m going vegetarian. It worked for me in India and Nepal, besides the 24-hour ‘cholera’ epidemic Trey and I contracted. I’m not going to be super strict because I know there will be foods I want to try. Abigail has discovered a couple places to order organic vegetables from and we can cook from home once we find an apartment. We’ll obviously be paying a lot for food compared to Chinese standards, but it’s definitely worth it to avoid pesticide residue on your veggies. Also, we’ll be bringing as much food as we can along with us. Lots of lentils and quinoa.

Clearly, it will be a challenge to eat healthy. Part of being in a foreign country and absorbing the culture is trying its gastronomic delights. I just don’t want to absorb any melamine with my eggs. The key will be balance.

China is a bit like Vietnam’s bullying older brother and in a lot of way, they sound similar.

“Everyone hawked, everyone spat, sometimes dribbling, sometimes in a trajectory that ran like candlewax down the side of a spittoon,” writes Theroux. “They tended to spit in wastebaskets or against tree trunks; but not even a government campaign restrained some from spitting on floors, and I saw people spit on carpets, always politely remembering to grind it in with the sole of their foot.”

“And they talked very loudly in that deaf, nagging and interrupting way, as if no one ever listened to them and they had to shout to be heard. The radios and televisions were always turned too loud too, the volume at maximum. Why? Was there a national deafness, or was it just a rather unfortunate habit?”

“They spat, they shouted, they stared and undressed in public; and yet with all this they seldom quarreled. They were extremely shy — timid even — modest and naive.”

He could just as easily be talking about the Vietnamese, especially when it comes to the spitting and the shouting. And as boisterous as the Vietnamese can be, they can also be demure.

Theroux calls Shanghai “abrasive, stifling, noisy, crowded and smelly.” Those were hardly the most disparaging epithets he used to describe the city.

From the bad to the good. Despite those concerns, we’re still very excited. For starters, here’s 50 reasons why. Community karaoke (#6 on the list)? I can’t wait. Avocado lady (#44)? Yes, please. Chinglish (#49)? Me very love long time. BONUS: 20 reasons to visit Shanghai in 2012. We like visitors!

Another reason to be excited: opportunities, opportunities, opportunities. Getting teaching jobs is pretty easy. Ideally, I’d like to teach part-time, while writing and maybe doing some private tutoring too. Who knows, maybe I’ll try my luck as male model in China since my Calvin Klein career never got off the ground in the States. For Jonathan Levine it was the best decision he ever made. Hopefully, us too.

So yes, we’re voluntarily getting Shanghai-ed. Our move involves zero coercion or kidnapping. Shanghai is sure to be a fascinating place to call home. According to Nicholas Kristof, I’m on the right track.

Getting Shanghai-ed

A week from now, we’ll have recently landed in Shanghai.

Awwwwwyeah!!!

Most importantly, Abigail is back to full health. Full eyebrows too. She’s got a pretty pixie-do and looks and feels like a real human being once again. We wouldn’t be going if she wasn’t up for it. Having her certainly makes the move a whole less stressful. Plus, she’s been there before. But having Abigail isn’t all that makes this move easier. We aren’t planning on a lengthy time abroad. Also, we’ve got a few friends and contacts in Shanghai. Lastly, we’ve done this before. No big deal.

So yes, my blog will once again be living up to its “Asian” nomenclature and hopefully the “Adventure” part too. Its needed a new name for these last several months. More coming soon.

Miss V

Hello world!

Violet is now over eight weeks old! She’s becoming a little more animated every day. She looks at you with a sense of recognition and smiles more often. As her mom Rachel put, “It’s a less work and more reward every day.” Here are some recent highlights.

Mommy and V

Rolls, rolls and more rolls

Little ducky

Autumn

Country roads in Wisconsin

One last sunset at the cabin.

The twelfth and final chemo treatment was Thursday! We celebrated by going out to dinner with Abigail’s extended family.

It’s pretty amazing how smooth the whole thing went. Abigail never got too sick and after the first couple treatments she pretty much knew how’d she be feeling each day post-chemo. Typically, she’s pretty fine on the day of. On Friday (yesterday) she’s a bit nauseous, feels chemically polluted, lethargic and has a strange metallic taste in her mouth which may lead to Sprite and Kraft macaroni cravings (One side effect of chemo is craving food and drink, often sweet, that you normally wouldn’t.).

Saturdays are super lethargic and her body feels pretty poisoned. The nausea remains, but she’s never vomited. By Sunday her health is usually on the upswing, but she doesn’t feel back to “normal” till Wednesday or Thursday. I know she’s looking forward to “normal,” especially getting back her strength and having eyebrows again. Thankfully there won’t be another chemo Thursday, poisoned Friday or lethargic Saturday.

***

Mom and dad move out of the cabin in just a few days. It was really hard for me to say good bye especially on a transcendent autumn day. We’ll always have the memories and I guess it’s time to build new ones at the new place.

Madison in October

The one and only Terrace.

Bucky only had to do up to 35 push-ups on this Saturday.

Detroit: the 21st century ghost town

Looking at Detroit from the north

Dilapidated. Disheartening. Decrepit. Decomposing. Disturbing. Decaying. Dying. You don’t even have to stray from the alliterative letter D to find a list of adjectives suitable to describe depressing Detroit. Since I’d recently visited old western ghost towns in Montana, it was only fitting I visited a 21st century ghost town too.

Abigail and I drove up through Indiana, Michigan, past Detroit and across the river to Windsor, Canada recently. Because Abigail has traveler’s health insurance, she had to get her insurance renewed in another country. Hence, the trip. I’d never been to Detroit (or Windsor) so I spent a couple hours and driving around and documenting the city’s blight.

Some stats on Detroit:
-The city is 83 percent black, 10.5 percent white.
-At its peak in 1950, Detroit had a population of 1.8 million, fifth largest in the U.S. Today its population is just 700,000.
-The population declined 25 percent between 2000 and 2010.
-The median family income is just $31,000 and nearly a third of families have an income at or below poverty level. In contrast, the Detroit suburbs are among the wealthiest in the country.

According to economist Thomas Sowell: “Before the ghetto riot of 1967, Detroit’s black population had the highest rate of home-ownership of any black urban population in the country, and their unemployment rate was just 3.4 percent.
It was not despair that fueled the riot. It was the riot which marked the beginning of the decline of Detroit to its current state of despair. Detroit’s population today is only half of what it once was, and its most productive people have been the ones who fled.”

That quote helps explain why Detroit looks the way it does today.

I’d only heard about Detroit’s decline, it was another thing to witness it. My first impression was, “Where is everyone?” Driving in the crux of the city’s downtown, I found myself alone at stoplights. Rare was the pedestrian or cyclist. At the time, the Detroit Lions were undefeated and about to host their first Monday Night Football game in a decade and the Detroit Tigers preparing to play in the ALCS. It may have been due to my sports-centric universe but on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, I expected the city to be abuzz. Where were the people?

Moving away from downtown I drove through several neighborhoods. It’s no exaggeration to say that every other house was boarded up. Once, these brick homes had been a nice place to live. Now junk filled yards, porches rotted out, windows were shattered and scars from fire marked the structures. Since arson has become a problem for abandoned homes, some had signs warning “This home is being watched.” With blocks of homes that look like no one has lived there for decades, it was difficult to believe any of them were being watched.

It was difficult to believe I was still in the U.S. I didn’t know it was this bad anywhere in our country.

Mt. Eliot Cemetery

Abandoned buildings attract bizarre graffiti.

26.2

Proof of life and proof of completion at the finish line

Yeeaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!!!!

Sunday, Oct. 2 marked the culmination of several months of not-so-intense training and a decade long jogging hobby. I’d run over a half marathon a half dozen times and made it as far as 19 miles once without too much suffering. I was hoping adrenaline would take me to the finish line. I also figured it had helped that I’d done most of my training in a heat index of over 90 degrees. Race day was PERFECT weather. About 50 degrees at the 8 a.m. start and low 70s midday.

Going into the marathon, I knew I’d be one of the lesser prepared runners. Yes, I’d done an adequate job of physical preparedness, but I was wearing a pair of old running shoes (They’d survived Vietnam so why not 26.2 more miles?), a pair of Liverpool soccer shorts purchased in Borneo and my cycling top. I shared the common bond of being a rookie marathoner with 30 percent of the 12,000 participants. I must have looked the part too.

At 8:11 a.m. I left the final “corral” of runners at the Metrodome and headed into downtown Minneapolis. We turned onto Hennepin Avenue and I soon spotted good college friends Jeremy and Christine whom I’d visited the day before. Onto Lyndale and past the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden and Walker Art Center. Beautiful day. I’d never felt better.

We weaved through neighborhoods of cheering supporters telling us we were “lookin’ good” and to “keep up the good work.” Yards of onlookers blasted rock anthems and we passed the occasional live band and even a tuba ensemble. People of all ages held up signs with encouraging words like, “If it was easy, I’d do it too”; “Pain is temporary, pride is forever” and “Don’t poop your pants.” With that in mind, I pushed on through the chain of lakes past Lake of The Isles, Calhoun, Harriet and Nokomis. Spectators urged us on every step of the way. The gratuitous, random support brought much needed inspiration. It just felt good to be a part of something with such communal good will. Around mile 11, I spotted mom, brother Charles and Abigail. The possibility of seeing them again and encountering other friends kept me going.

It helped that I’d witnessed the insanity that is the Ironman just three weeks prior. In Madison on September 11, the iron-couple Andy and Kelly dominated 2.4 miles in the water, 112 miles on bike…and then ran a marathon!!! Wowza, what an accomplishment! Why they’d want to do that to themselves I don’t know. But I admire their physical toughness and mental discipline. Knowing that they completed a marathon after struggling for seven previous hours kept me going too.

The first 19 or 20 miles went by smoothly and without any struggles. My body was operating like a well-oiled machine as I’d hoped. Inevitably I wore down. First my ankles started getting sore. Then it was my lower back and quads. Pretty soon everything hurt. I began longing for each mile marker which offered refreshments and a brief opportunity to walk while I rehydrated. The drink stops seemed further and further apart. I plodded on.

At mile 24 I stopped for Powerade and water. I must have looked beat because a fellow — and presumably more experienced — runner turned to me and said, “Hey buddy, just two more miles. They’ve got beverages, food, a medal and free t-shirt waiting for you. You can do it.” He was right. I could do it. And they had oranges, pineapple, chips, soup, chocolate milk and more at the finish. I consumed everything in sight.

Runner number 7068 finished in 4:23:17 just off a 10 minute mile clip in 4,632 place. I was feeling pretty proud of my time until I realized a few dozen 50 and 60-year-olds had finished ahead of me…and Andy and Kelly had the same time in their Ironman.

In the weeks leading up to my training I’d often been asked whether my marathon would be a one-time effort. “Let me finish first and then I’ll have a more definitive answer for you,” was my typical response. And now that I’ve finished, yes, I hope to run another.

From Minneapolis to St. Paul; the Metrodome to the capitol

Looking pretty good considering they just finished the Ironman.

The closest I'll be getting to "The Ironman" any time soon.

Missing Minnesota

Visiting Minnesota in the summer and autumn, it’s easy to forget about winter’s six months of cruelty. My love for the Land of 10,000 Lakes has been quickly rekindled, eased by the sublime weather. By my affinity stretches much deeper than the pleasant weather and nostalgia for where I grew up. Of course, Minnesota still feels like home since most of my friends have stayed around.

It’s easy to see why.

Minnesota, and specifically Minneapolis, rank at the top or near the top in most livable rankings. The people prove that Minnesota deserves its “nice” reputation. Its extensive network of bike paths make Minneapolis the bike friendliest city and the traffic is never too bad. Furthermore, it’s considered one of the greenest cities and one of the best places to find employment.

Damn the cruel, cruel winter.

Mighty Mississippi

Minneapolis from St. Anthony Bridge

Abigail's first trip to Minnesota

KaviJohn: The little man in the hat

Those hills are black

Black Hills with Harney Peak in the background

View of Cathedral Spires from Harney Peak

South Dakota’s always had a special place in my heart, home of many precious childhood memories: trout fishing at Roubaix Lake in the Black Hills, visiting grandma and grandpa, trips to Mt. Rushmore, the Dinosaur Park in Rapid City, rising early to watch colorful hot-air balloons take off and obviously, many and many trips to Wall Drug. Don’t forget Crazy Horse (Maybe I’ll live to see its completion?), Deadwood, Wild Bill Hickock, Calamity Jane, Custer State Park, Sturgis, the Needles and Harney Peak. That fondness for Paha Sapa hasn’t faded with age.

On top the highest point east of the Rockies

On our return home, we stopped for a night in Deadwood before making our way through Hill City to Lake Sylvan and Harney Peak. The last and only time I’d ever climbed the 7,244 ft. peak I was 12 or 13. This time we had ideal weather and a clear panorama of the backside of Mt. Rushmore and miles and miles in each direction from the top. As the picture below states, Harney is the highest peak east of the Rocky Mountains and west of the Pyrenees in Europe.

View from lookout tower; backside of Mt. Rushmore visible straight ahead

Cathedral Spires

Lake Sylvan

Cottonwood, SD. Population: 11

Wild west

Bannack, Montana

On Monday, Sept. 19 we piled in the van and headed west. After a stop at the Mitchell Corn Palace (see below) we arrived at my grandparents in South Dakota’s capital, Pierre. The Missouri river bisects the town of 13,600 (the second smallest capital in the U.S. after Montpelier, Vermont) which was hit hard by flooding this spring. Near the Missouri there was some evidence of the high waters and plenty of sandbag piles.

At the world's only corn palace

Grandpa has slowed down considerably in the last year. Getting around is really difficult for him. However, he remains a “tough old bird” in his words and is determined to do as much hunting and fishing as he can. He needed a quick hospital visit to get him in shape for his hunting excursion last weekend with some relatives. Nothing will keep him from hunting!

After a day rest in windy Pierre, it was further west. We saw hundreds of pronghorn antelope posed as still as statues across South Dakota’s rolling hills. They’d better get ready to run as hunting season opens. After an obligatory stop at Wall Drug, we drove from sunrise to sunset gained an hour and still barely made it to Missoula. Adam and Bess have a lovely home just a couple blocks from Missoula’s main street.

The fabled jackalope. Dad never forgave Mom for disallowing his purchase of a stuffed jackalope head several years ago. It would have looked so good about the fireplace.

Wall Drug...we're diggin' it!

Only at Wall Drug will you find a convenience store with stuffed animal heads.

The next morning the six of us packed into the van (it was already a snug fit with four) and passed through the old mining towns of Philipsburg and Anaconda (There’s a great story about how Anaconda nearly became Montana’s capital.) en route to our home for the next three nights, High Rye Cabin, built in 1919 by the Montana Conservation Corps.

Of course, the cabin had no electricity or running water. There was a creek nearby that would have provided water most times of the year but was barely a trickle. Though secluded, we never felt too far removed from civilization as an occasional truck or four wheeler rumbled by.

Owls and Bob Dylan -- they sum up the decor at Bess and Adam's

Philipsburg, Montana

High Rye Cabin, middle of nowhere in Montana

We passed our time with plenty of card games, football, hiking and a visit to Butte, just 20 miles north of our cabin. Today, Butte’s population has dwindled to 34,000. Once however, Butte was Montana’s largest city and one of the largest cities west of the Mississippi River with a population of over 100,000 thanks to the mining boom at the end of the 19th century. It had electricity before Paris and New York!!! Its former glory remains evident as the town has done a praiseworthy job of preserving the buildings with one of the largest National Historic Landmark Districts in the whole country.

Last week we watched the PBS documentary Butte, America. and learned some more fascinating facts about the mining town:

-Statistically, the Butte mines were the most dangerous in the world. Needless to say, there were many fatherless children and widows in Butte. The Granite Mountain Mine Fire in 1917 killed 164 men, which led to united miners.

-Union halls were routinely blown up and miners jailed as the unions sought to gain rights against the massive companies. “Brute force became the rule of the day.”

-Over 10,000 miles of underground mines still exist today beneath Butte.

-In the 1950’s underground mining was replaced by open-pit mining. Today, Butte’s Berkeley Pit is one of the largest Superfund sites in America as metals and dangerous chemicals such as arsenic, cadmium, zinc and sulphuric acid leach from the surrounding rock. In 1995, the migration of 340 snow geese was cut short when they took a pit-stop at the Berkeley Mine. WNYC’s Radiolab also did an excellent program on the demise of the snow geese. Oops!

Outhouse at High Rye

Butte, Montana

One of the copper king houses in Butte.

We had one more side trip to Bannack State Park. Today, Bannack is a well-preserved ghost town in the middle of some desolate, barren land. A stroll down Bannack’s main street transported you back to a different era. It was easy to picture cowboys carousing through the town, gambling in the Bannack saloon and ending the night with a shoot-out. The town could have been the set for many a Clint Eastwood or John Wayne movie.

Adam’s girlfriend, Bess, is a photography student at the University of Montana and had her own ambitions for visiting the ghost town. She provided us with some old clothing for a black and white photo shoot. We had a lot of fun goofing around in our throwback garb and possibly even got another Christmas card photo out of it.

Brothers Liedl

More Bannack

Ghost town of Bannack

Bess and Adam

Big Sky above Bannack at cemetery over looking town

Old school Mom and Adam

High near Continental Divide

The whole gang at High Rye

Have you dug Wall Drug?

Long overdue

Evergreen Avenue, Wicker Park...New home!

Sooooooo it’s been an embarrassingly long, long time since I’ve updated this here blog of mine. Why? I’ve got a litany of lame excuses:
1) My blog is nearly out of memory and WordPress wants me to pay to continue blogging (I think I’ll just start a new blog 🙂
2) I’ve been a little busy. For real. I know, it’s hard to believe.
3) I got nothin’ to share. My life is mundane. No more Asian Adventure (I really need a new name for this damn thing.)

But there have been some happenings. As the pictures show, Abigail and I have moved into a new pad in Wicker Park, literally right on the park a block and a half from Six Corners. The place is a perfect, cozy fit for us and we’ve already hosted a couple guests.

Baby Violet has entered the world! Born at 8 pounds, 8 ounces and 20.5 inches, she’s healthy, happy, adorable and has cheeks that resemble a smooshed tomato. Congratulations to Rachael and Ariel :))

Baby Violet!

Chemo is coming to a close. For the most part, it’s been uneventful which is a very good thing. However, instead of getting easier they are getting more difficult. Basically Abigail has more poison in her with each treatment so each cycle gets a little tougher. Eyelashes and eyebrows are going, going, gone. Good thing she has such a beautifully shaped head. It’s been a lengthy ordeal, but just two more treatments to go. Three weeks from today will be the final chemo. I’m sure it will take Abigail at least a couple weeks to get back to her old self and strength back but the worst will be over. Whew, boo-yah…uff-da!

I spent nearly three weeks in Minnesota at the end of August and beginning of September for a wedding and work at the State Fair. Last night 4/5 of the Liedl family returned from a ten day, 3,500 mile road trip to Montana and South Dakota. The final fifth remains in Missoula. Pictures and posts to follow from the Fair and journey West.

Lastly, my marathon is finally here (almost). I think I’m ready. I’m excited, but ready to get it over with. Though physically prepared, I hope everything goes as it should on race day. Thankfully, the forecast is ideal. If it’s like today, I’ll be running straight indoors and curling up on the couch.

Blue Line

More Wicker Park, Damen Street Blue Line

New bedroom

New living room

New kitchen